


Holiday Traditions

by hannahrhen



Series: The Marriage of True Minds [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, Arranged Marriage, Because It's Christmas Dammit, Christmas, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Presents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas in the "Marriage of True Minds" 'verse ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> This is like a chocolaty truffle of fluffy angst. I'd be embarrassed to post it, but I burned off all shipping-related shame years ago.
> 
> Happy holidays, y'all!

Bruce was wrapping up his visit when Tony suddenly realized they weren’t alone in the house. The movement in the corner of his vision--Loki, his itinerant husband, silently making himself at home in the next room.

Bruce noticed it a moment later--probably by smell, Tony thought, and _ew_ , but what were you gonna do? He paused in describing his travel plans to meet Tony’s eyes briefly and ask, “Everything okay?,” in a low voice. 

Tony’s attention returned completely to Bruce, who clearly was going to need a little stress management. “Yeah, great,” he offered in a light tone. “Great. Conjugal visit, you know. Like clockwork.” He spun his finger in a circle.

Bruce laughed. “God, Tony--that’s just ... God. Please.” He waved his hand like he was trying to disperse the visual.

Tony grinned. “But that’s not important right now. I see--” He angled his neck toward the box Bruce held behind his back. “--a present! What do you have for me, Brucie? Gimme, gimme!” He wiggled his fingers in the direction of the box Bruce had produced from his shoulder bag. It was long and thin and gaudily wrapped and ... promising.

“Merry Christmas, Tone,” Bruce said, handing the box over. He still turned his head a fraction, toward the room behind, with careful, smooth movements. But Tony knew Loki wouldn’t approach while Bruce was still here, if he didn’t have to. They were cautiously cordial enough, when forced to interact, but you really didn’t get over having your spine pulverized by a big green rage monster. 

You also didn’t get over being the rage monster who slung the Big Bad around like a jump rope. But, whatever. 

“Ooo, smoked salmon,” Tony said when the ribbon and paper had been ripped off. “I will glut myself on this while watching the It’s a Wonderful Life marathon in my undies.” He turned the box over, studying the packaging. “Can’t wait.”

He earned a snort. “You just have to keep dumping those images on me, don’t you? Well, I hope you like it.” Bruce shrugged. “Unsurprisingly, it’s kind of hard to buy for the richest man in the universe.”

Tony gave him the eyeball--used to Bruce’s self-effacing comments and mostly given up on arguing against any but the most self-destructive. Instead, as he set the box down on the kitchen counter, he offered: “Not the universe, my friend--just this hemisphere. Maybe the planet, if you promise not to rat me out to the IRS.” 

Bruce hummed good-naturedly. He picked up his own gift from the counter--a wallet with a camouflage chip, secured to open only for Bruce’s palm print. Bruce had let slip a few months before that Hulking out really screwed with his ability to carry--and keep--money, and it had set Tony to work. Secretly, of course.

They were quiet for a minute, neither forgetting the presence a doorway away. Finally, Bruce spoke again. “Well, Merry Christmas, Tony. I hope tomorrow’s quiet and you can enjoy it.” Tony didn’t imagine the emphasis on the “quiet.”

They hugged, Tony slapping Bruce’s back in a decidedly manly fashion to mitigate the potential for actual sentiment. “You, too, Bruce--you sure you need to be traveling?”

“Yeah, it’s always best to be en route when most people are staying at home.” 

“All right--see you in a couple of weeks, then.”

After Tony walked Bruce to the door, waved him out into the night--he paused. Malibu at Christmas had seemed like a good enough idea. Time away from the other Avengers, who all had their own plans anyway. And time alone, too, probably--itinerant husband and all. The front of the house shone with professionally-installed lights, and the giant tree and greenery swag that decorated the living room, and also installed by strangers, was his main concession to holiday cheer.

It looked pleasant enough. He planned to spend the next day--Christmas Day--working while running the perfunctory movies on every screen in the house.

He hadn’t, of course, expected to see Loki. A month after their honeymoon earlier in the year, Tony had officially decreed it was time to “go back to work,” and he had. And, while it hadn’t been Tony’s intent, so too had Loki, in whatever fashion of his that Tony tried really hard not to worry about. 

Since then, they had spent time apart at regular intervals--maybe more time than he liked, if Tony were honest with himself. But ... why would he start being honest with himself now, really? Loki solemnly swore he was up to _only_ good, and Tony tried--hard--to believe him, while occasionally looking for evidence of lipstick on the collar or blood under the fingernails.

He walked back into the living area just as the god stepped through the other doorway. Tony couldn’t help but appraise: Loki was in his Midgard gear, with a silvery-gray slim-fitted suit jacket, white shirt (no tie), and dark trousers--he looked loose, relaxed, but ... Good. Always good. Tony would have felt slobby in his t-shirt and sweats, but they pretty much always looked like this, both of them, when the occasion didn’t call for armor. 

They regarded each other, Loki’s expression neutral. 

Tony: “Hey.” And, if anything, Loki’s face grew wary. Fuck. Even if Tony admitted to missing the other during their weeks apart, he would never admit it out loud. Still, the first moments back together? Always goddamned awkward. Best to get this over with, he thought as he crossed the room.

“Everything okay?” The first touch was the hardest, getting refamiliarized with each other, but Tony gripped Loki’s upper arm, then ran his hand down past his elbow to catch Loki’s wrist. He pulled Loki’s arm away from his body and twined their fingers together.

“Yes, it’s ... fine.” He looked around the room, squeezing Tony’s hand back firmly. “It looks different--you changed the design.”

Tony followed Loki’s gaze, then sputtered a little laugh when he realized what the god was looking at--tree, swag, the fucking blinking white lights and glittering silver ornaments. “Oh. ... Oh, no. That would be a _bit_ much, even for me. I just, uh, decorated for Christmas.”

Loki turned back to him, cocking his head. “You said you didn’t observe the winter holidays.” 

Tony frowned--he knew that tone of “you lied to me,” and it tweaked something cold in his gut. Girding himself, and carefully keeping Loki’s hand in his own, he let a little of his genuine confusion bleed onto his face in case Loki misinterpreted and this escalated quickly. “Yeah ... well, I’m not a Midnight Mass kind of guy, no, but ... you can’t grow up with a Catholic mother and not at least do some of--” He trailed off, gesturing with his free hand toward the tree, the lights. “--this. It’s kind of ... it’s just a tradition.”

Loki hummed in understanding, but it was still hesitant, and Tony could still tell he had fucked up, but he wasn’t sure why or how. Loki was the one who had disappeared for three weeks with no ETA for his return flight or whatever-the-hell. Tony watched his own body language, his own breathing--this could go south pretty fast, he knew from personal experience.

Releasing Tony’s hand, Loki walked through to the kitchen, stopping at the counter, near where the smoked salmon box lay. Shit, Tony thought--that does need to go in the fridge. But before he had a chance, Loki said, “I didn’t realize you observed this holiday’s traditions. If it is appropriate for us to exchange gifts, we should do so.”

Tony smiled a little, admittedly relieved. Okay, this Loki he could deal with. Wherever he’d been, whatever he’d been doing, it had made him weirdly reflective. Circumspect. Or maybe this was the downward slump of his insanity, and Tony was about to be filleted? He sighed. “You don’t have to give me anything, _husband_ ,” he said, stepping up behind Loki and plotting out the chessboard strategy necessary to guide the god into bed in as few moves as possible. “But if you want, we can do it next year, okay?” He reached out for Loki’s waist.

“Actually ... I have something for you now.” Aaand ... _that_ wasn’t what Tony expected, he thought, dropping his hand back.. He watched Loki reach into the pocket of his suit coat, saw him pull out a gold-colored ... coin, it looked like, with uneven markings on the surface. 

Loki placed it on the counter as Tony stepped next to him. They both looked down, as if the coin were about to move off on its own. Tony didn’t recognize the markings, which appeared to have a pattern, but nothing he could parse from a quick look. 

From the corner of his eye, Tony saw Loki turn to face him. “It’s a ward, and a tracker,” came the explanation, “to affix to your suit. It will dispel certain effects, allow me to find you even if you have been hidden by magical means.” He smiled now that he had Tony’s full attention, and he actually looked ... modest? “Not through all magic, unfortunately, but the kind any sorcerer with moderate ability could cast. If any of my ... enemies ... should find you, this could expedite your return.” 

A moment of thoughtful silence, and then, “Wow,” was all Tony could offer. Definitely not what he’d been expecting. He enjoyed the expression on Loki’s face--a weird little shyness, yes, but also more than proud of himself. This was, as far as Tony could remember, the first magic Loki had performed solely for Tony’s benefit. 

“ ... So, then, I assume that will allow you to find me and kick my ass for letting myself get kidnapped?” Not that he could let the moment stand, of course. He’d managed to keep the grin off his face, but he knew Loki could hear it in his voice, and it earned him the first honest smile of the visit, with a sly duck of Loki’s head. 

“You already know me so well.”

“But ... I thought you didn’t ... You didn’t know it was Christmas.”

“No, I did not.”

Tony had to look away, touched the coin with a fingertip. He started to run through the logistics of placing it on one of the suits, and--

“I know it’s looking a gift horse in the mouth--” Tony willed himself not to chuckle, since he _still_ hadn’t given Loki a hard time about that story, and the god’s mood remained strangely introspective. “--but ... could you make more of them? One for every--” While he’d been talking, Loki’s hand had returned to his pocket, from which he retrieved a twisted cloth. He dropped the package to the counter, where it clinked with the sound of pieces of metal hitting each other. 

“Wow,” Tony repeated. “I just--”

“No thanks are necessary, Stark. It is in my best interest that I should find you, when I care to.”

“Huh, yeah.” He leaned over, nudged Loki’s shoulder with his own. “Of course. Well, I love them. Even if it just means you can stalk me and kick my ass whenever you feel like it.” He pressed a kiss to Loki’s jaw as the other chuckled. “And I have something to show you.” Stepping away, he said, “Follow me.”

They walked through the house, up a half-flight of stairs to another level, and around to the back, to a little-used space that Tony forgot about in his well-worn migration between bedroom, kitchen, living room, and workshop. Tony saw Loki’s face grow puzzled, intrigued as he realized at least one wall and some doors had been ... rearranged. 

Tony stopped, finally, opening a door. They stepped into the small room, and, after a moment, Tony heard Loki exhale behind him.

He began, without looking back: “I figured you needed some space, you know.” Here, he gestured. “A place to do your magic or your reading or your ... I don’t know, your scrying or throwing of bones or whatever the hell you’re doing when you’re not here.” He surveyed the room. He hadn’t anticipated it would be unveiled yet, and a few of the things he’d been hoping to add hadn’t arrived--a tapestry for the wall next to the door, some glass and stoneware jars for a low set of shelves. But the heavy wooden table in the center of the room--custom-crafted for Loki’s height--was placed perfectly, some pewter and silver statuary Thor had recommended rose from the corner tables and the floor, and the windows--

“It’s beautiful,” Loki breathed. Yeah, Tony knew he’d like the far wall, which had been torn out and replaced not only with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened fully to the valley beyond, but also extended upward to a reinforced series of skylights that extended far back into where the small room’s ceiling used to be. 

The entire effect left the room floating in space, stars glittering in the surrounding sky. 

“And don’t worry about it getting hot, or too bright--the glass is designed to--”

“It’s beautiful,” Loki repeated, neatly cutting him off. “I would never have thought to ask you for it.”

“No, well--” Tony looked around. “No,” he said again, putting his hands on his hips and inventorying the missing tapestry and containers again. “I just ... uh ... “

Loki hooked one hand through Tony’s elbow, turning him around. “What do you want to say, husband?” The little smile he offered was an encouragement, anyway. 

“Just thought you wouldn’t have to travel so much, if you--had your own--”

Loki’s face grew michievous. “So, this is a trap, then? A lure? The piece of rent flesh to ensnare the beast?”

Tony shrugged. Despite the harsh words, and as tricky as managing Loki’s moods could be, he only detected pleasure from the other. “Maybe? I mean, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing when you’re not here, and, honestly, babe, I don’t want to know--probably--but--” He ground to a halt, started over: “Yeah, it’s a trap. I want your ass here for awhile. Stay.”

Loki took Tony in both arms, pulled the smaller man in. “Merry Christmas,” was all he said. 

***

Oh, and, if they celebrated the holiday by christening the table in Loki’s workroom--well, that was the start of their own, new tradition.

**Author's Note:**

> Imported the wooden table from the [Sex Magic](http://archiveofourown.org/series/28037) series.
> 
> Imported the itinerant husband and accompanying angst from Journey's "Faithfully," because why the hell not. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, y'all! You can find me publicly hand-wringing over my writing, or fangirling over other people's, on Tumblr: <http://hannahrhen.tumblr.com/>


End file.
